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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834409">T-Shirts and Hair Dye</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharredLips/pseuds/CharredLips'>CharredLips</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>My Chemical Romance</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, M/M, Mutual Pining</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 20:08:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,653</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27834409</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/CharredLips/pseuds/CharredLips</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Frank helping Gerard dye his hair will either be a genius idea or a train wreck. Maybe both.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Frank Iero/Gerard Way</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>39</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>T-Shirts and Hair Dye</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Not Betaed. Sorry. Loosely set in 2005, around Warped. (Gerard's bleach patch hair)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This is the best idea Frank has ever had. It's going to be awesome. Or it could be a total disaster. It wouldn't be a Frank idea if there wasn't the potential for catastrophe. But Frank has a good feeling about it, and he's only like 35% nervous, so that has to be a good sign, right? <br/><br/>Frank dyes his own hair all the time; he's sure he can do just as good of a job as that obnoxiously flirty stylist. If volunteering to dye Gerard's hair himself helps keep her away from him, well, that's just a nice bonus to his philanthropy. The extra alone time with Gerard was definitely intentional, though. Not that Frank will admit that to anyone, especially Gerard. </p><p>That's where Frank's doubts start to come in. He's about 5% nervous that he will mess up Gerard's hair. But, even then, he knows Gerard would forgive him. He always forgives Frank when he messes shit up. The other 30% is Frank being scared that he'll blurt out something he shouldn't and make Gerard uncomfortable. His big mouth is always getting him into trouble. But he's not too worried, he's been keeping these feelings on the DL for years. He's gotten pretty good at it, in his not-so-humble opinion. </p><p>The walk to Gerard's did him some good. He spent the whole time psyching himself up and smoking too many cigarettes. The exercise and nicotine helping to calm some of that nervous, excited, energy. Some. <br/><br/>He still holds his breath after the knocks on the door, like not breathing will somehow make things less tense. "Since when do you knock? Come in, asshole" Gerard calls from inside. Frank releases his breath. What is he so worried about? This is the same as always. He can do this. <br/><br/>"Just making sure you were decent before I barged in, man" Frank responds, walking into G's apartment. "I'm always indecent, Frankie. But I'm dressed if that's what you mean" Gerard says with a breathy laugh. "But it's not like that's something you haven't seen before. Is my bare ass really that traumatizing, Frankie?"</p><p>"You have no idea" Frank answers, hoping Gerard doesn't notice how his voice dropped down an octave. <br/><br/>Gerard pretends to be offended. "Jealousy is not a good look, Frankie. But I suppose it's kind of cute on you." Gerard winks <br/><br/>"Did he just call me cute?' Frank thinks, his mind already racing. He almost doesn't notice Gerard wink at him. But he does notice, and all he can do about it is try not to choke and hope the blush he feels rising to his cheeks isn't noticeable.  <br/><br/>"Be jealous of my ass later, though, you're supposed to be dying my hair, not bruising my ego," Gerard jokes. </p><p>Gerard really doesn't know where all this false bravado comes from. He somehow pulls it out whenever Frank is around, even though that is the person who makes him the most insecure. He sometimes worries it makes him seem too cocky, but he supposes it's better than lovesick and pathetic, the way he really is. </p><p>"Alright, you prima donna, let's go then. How do you wanna do it?" Frank asks, mentally scolding himself for thinking the double entendre for the last question. <br/><br/>"You're the experienced one here, Frankie. Just take control and tell me how you want me."<br/><br/>Frank really does have a one-track mind, he decides. This is going to be harder than he thought. But he tries to keep his composure. <br/><br/>"Alright, Bathroom," Frank says, grabbing Gerard by the hand to pull him along. Frank knows he doesn't need to, it's like 12 steps away, but Gerard isn't fighting him, so what's a little hand-holding between friends? "Where's the dye?"<br/><br/>"It's on the sink already. I didn't mix it or anything, though" Gerard answers.<br/><br/>"That's perfect. Do you have a chair you can sit in?" Frank asks<br/><br/>"Oh, a chair. I forgot. Um, I can use my desk chair. It's not like I have many to choose from" Gerard says.<br/><br/>"Ok, that's fine. I'll start mixing the dye and you grab the chair. Okay?" Frank says, more like a question than an order.<br/><br/>"Yeah" Gerard answers, as he's already walking out toward his bedroom to get the chair. </p><p>The desk chair is almost too big to even fit in the small bathroom, especially with another person in there. Frank sits Gerard in the chair, placing a towel over the back of his neck, and trying to cover all of Gerard's shirt, so it won't get dye on it. </p><p>Gerard feels Frank's hand brush the back of his neck when he's putting the towel on. It sends a warm shiver through his whole body. 'Just control yourself, idiot. He's just covering your clothes so they don't get messed up. Stop getting so worked up!' he chastises himself, in his head.</p><p>The chair really is huge, or the bathroom really is tiny, because Frank can barely maneuver around the chair, especially while trying to actually reach Gerard's hair. He has to practically climb on top of Gerard to reach him, which is definitely not a complaint. 'God, he looks so beautiful like this' Frank thinks, as Gerard is forced to stare up at him, his eyes wide and expecting.  </p><p>'God, he looks so beautiful like this', Gerard thinks, while he watches Frank above him, staring down at Gerard in awe. He thinly veils it with mock professionalism. 'He's so close. He smells so good.' Gerard's thoughts are going crazy. He's starting to think it was a bad idea to agree to this, but then Frank's hands are in his hair, and he's lost the ability to think altogether. </p><p>Gerard is sitting in an office chair in a ratty apartment bathroom, inhaling toxic fumes while he has chemicals being slathered in his head. This is not a moment that he should even remotely consider being turned on. And yet, it's taking all of his energy to hold back a moan at the feeling of Frank's hand on the side of his face. </p><p>'He's just holding your face still so he can slop bleach paste on your head, you weirdo; it isn't sexy or romantic. Quit being a freak.' Gerard repeats to himself, like if he thinks it hard enough it will actually work. </p><p>It hasn't worked any of the several hundred other times he's tried it over the past 4 years, but maybe this is the time it finally will. Even he doesn't believe that. But it's the only thing he can do to stop himself from doing something that might make Frank uncomfortable.</p><p>Gerard just keeps his eyes shut tight. If he can't see Frank looking so flawless, it makes it a little easier on him. He never thought he'd be thankful for the suffocating scent of bleach, but if he breathes it in deep enough, it's almost enough to mask the scent of Frank, whose neck is way too close to Gerard's face, as he leans over him to reach the crown of his head. </p><p>Frank can't help but notice how adorable Gerard looks with his face all scrunched up. Well, 'notice' is not a strong enough word. He couldn't help but <em>gawk</em> at the cute way Gerard's eyebrows creased and his pixie nose twitched slightly. Frank assumed the bleach fumes were burning his eyes or something. </p><p>'How can someone look that perfect in the midst of a (hyperbole) chemical warfare attack?' Frank wonders. It has Frank wishing that he could just close his own eyes. Not from the fumes, of course, but to stop his mind from thinking all the thoughts that won't be quiet, like how easy it would be to lean down, just a little, and touch their lips together. <br/><br/>Frank can't close his eyes, of course. He kind of needs to see in order to not completely destroy Gerard's hair. Although, if Frank has to stare at that flawless face much longer, he might just be primed to make a move that could ruin their friendship. Is Gerard's hair really worth that? He should have just let the flirty chick do it, he thinks, no matter how much it would have eaten him up. </p><p>To Frank's relief (or disappointment, depending on which part of his brain you're asking), he is finished applying the bleach. Now he can back out of Gerard's personal space for a few minutes, while it sets. That should help with his yearning, right? <br/><br/>"10 minutes, then we wash it out," Frank says, setting an alarm on his phone. "Just relax." <br/><br/>"Should I put on some music while we w-" Frank started, only to get cut off by Gerard's eyes jolting open and a loud cry of "Motherfucker!" "What's wrong?", Frank asks, startled.<br/><br/>"This shit burns so bad. I feel like it's going to eat through my brain." Gerard replies, sounding pained. <br/><br/>He's already starting to get twitchy. Frank knows him too well. Knows that Gerard will either go wander all over the house, getting dye all over everything, or he will just try to wash it out now, and end up with ruined hair. Frank can't let him do either. <br/><br/>Frank does the only thing he can think to do, which is grab Gerard's hand. "Here, just squeeze my hand, to help take your mind off the pain. I know it's stupid but-" Frank stops his explanation there, not actually having anything to follow the 'but'. <br/><br/>He didn't have to say anything else, though. Because Gerard is squeezing his hand. Not in a crushing way, like he expected. It's very firm, sure, but it seems a whole lot more like Gerard is grounding himself with Frank's hand rather than using it as an outlet for his pain. <br/><br/>Gerard wonders if Frank knows just how effective his plan was. Because from the second Gerard felt Frank's hand in his, he forgot all about the pain in his head. In fact, his head could have fallen off and he doesn't think he would have noticed. He is far too focused on the electricity he feels throughout the rest of his body. Specifically, the power surge in his chest. He is so far gone. So completely and totally in love with his best friend. <em>Fuck</em>.  </p><p>Frank's trying to remind himself that Gerard is in pain, that this is not fun for him, but it's really hard not to get caught up in his own head when he has Gerard's hand sending shockwaves through his entire body. </p><p>Why won't his stupid heart stop pounding? He's in love. A hopeless, lovesick, fool, madly in love with his best friend. He's known that for years, though. He doesn't need the reminder every time Gerard is in his line of sight. <em>Fuck</em>.</p><p>Before either one can even return to coherent thoughts, Frank's alarm is going off. Huh, Getting the dye out didn't seem nearly as urgent as it had 10 minutes ago. But reluctantly, Gerard released Frank's hand, ready to let Frank wash it out. </p><p>Frank was disappointed at the lack of contact, too. Until he realized that there is no room to stand between the chair and the sink to rinse Gerard's hair, and he can't reach from behind the chair on the side opposite the sink. There is literally only one way he can think of to wash the dye out. Well, two, but the first is already pushing it. He can't really try to get Gerard in the shower with him and claim it's 'the only way'.<br/><br/>So Frank tells Gerard what they have to do, and before he can even spit out a question or a protest, though that adorable confused look on his face, Frank is already lifting himself onto the chair with Gerard, knees resting one each on the outside of Gerard's thighs, as Frank straddles his waist so he can lean Gerard's head back into the sink. <br/><br/>Actually, Frank is incredibly proud of his restraint. He's not actually straddling Gerard, not in the way he's always fantasized about. It's more like hovering over him. Their legs are touching, of course, but Frank isn't resting on Gerard's lap; he decided to stay in a lifted position, to make it slightly less awkward for Gerard (and less tempting for himself). <br/><br/>It was going well, the desire only almost consuming Frank, instead of totally consuming him, and Gerard seems to be mostly relaxed, content, even. But then a strand of Frank's hair fell out from behind his ear. With the position it brushed against Gerard's neck, which apparently startled him,, because he shot up, essentially headbutting Frank in the chest, and causing him to fall flush against Gerard's lap. </p><p>Gerard apologized, of course. And So did Frank, insisting it was his fault, with his hair being the catalyst and all. Then they both started laughing. <br/><br/>"This could only happen to us" Gerard says through his laughter. <br/><br/>"Seriously! Colossal office chairs, flesh-eating hair dye, and a rouge fringe! It's like a terrible sci-fi movie" Frank giggled. "I guess we should have known I'd fuck up somehow," Frank agrees, his tone dropping a little, as he started feeling bad for so selfishly insisting on doing it, rather than the professional stylist. <br/><br/>"Nah, Frankie. You're wrong. Any other way would have been so boring. There's no one else I'd rather have doing it." Gerard answers fondly, possibly even blushing a little, as he ducked his head shyly at the end. <br/><br/>Shit. He was getting too sappy. He needed to drag the bravado back out, before he makes Frank uncomfortable. "Anyway, Frankie. If you're going to keep sitting on my lap all day anyway, can you please get back to washing the bleach out, before I get a bald spot or something?" <br/><br/><em>Whew</em>, that's exactly what he needed. Gerard is surprised he even had it in him with the way his mind is just full of 'Frank. Frank. Frank...'</p><p>After a few more minutes that went by way too fast, and somehow also too slow, all the bleach was out. Then Frank was climbing off Gerard's lap, with all the grace of a drunk rhino, and getting a towel to dry Gerard's hair. </p><p>Gerard tries insisting that he can dry his own hair. Partially to not seem too eager, and partially because Frank really has done enough for him already. He doesn't want to take advantage, no matter how much he enjoys it. <br/><br/>It doesn't matter anyway, because Frank is having none of it. "Who's the stylist here, Gee? Let me do my job and stop fussing." he tuts, leaning over Gerard once more as he fists the towel through Gerard's hair, being way more thorough than necessary.<br/><br/>When he finally finishes over-drying Gerard's hair, Frank reaches out both his hands to Gerard, to help pull him up out of the chair. Gerard could get up on his own, he's sure, but he's not going to refuse. Frank pulls harder than you'd assume someone of his stature to do, so Gerard stumbles forward too far, bumping chest to chest with Frank. Well, chest to face, Frank is short. <br/><br/>They both start to apologize again, as they back away from each other slightly, both speaking at the same time, so neither can really hear the other, before Gerard gasps and the look of his awkward "personal space" apology drains from his face, replaced by a look of genuine guilt. <br/><br/>"Frankie, you shirt! Oh my god, I am so fucking sorry!" Gerard looks really upset. <br/><br/>Frank looks down to see what he's getting worked up about. And then he sees the big white stain on his Black Flag shirt. When Gerard lifted his head into Frank's chest before, the hair bleach must have gotten on him. Yeah, it's a bummer, but Frank isn't upset. And even if he was, there is no way he could stay mad about it when Gerard is looking that pitiful and adorable. </p><p>"Gee, it's alright. It was an accident. One that was my fault, and it's just a shirt. It's okay." Frank says, truly hoping that Gerard will cheer up. Frank hates to see him upset, and being the cause is not something he ever wants to do. <br/><br/>"It's not 'just a shirt', Frankie. It's your favorite shirt. And I ruined it. I am so sorry. I'm going to make it up to you, though. I'll find you a new one. I know it was vintage and rare, but I'll find one, I promise. And in the meantime, give me that one. I'm going to try to fix it." Gerard says, sounding panicked but completely serious. <br/><br/>"Give you my shirt? What? No. It's fine, Gee. I promise. Don't get all worked up about it. Just relax. Let's smoke or something. And you haven't even looked at your hair yet. Don't worry about me or my shirt. I just want you to have a good day. Don't let it be ruined because of me, please, Gee." </p><p>"It's not because of you. I ruined your shirt. I am the one who caused it. And I'll have a fine day once you let me do something to make it better. If you won't give it to me, I'll just take it", Gerard says. </p><p>Frank starts to laugh, thinking Gerard is joking, until Gerard reaches out to grab for the bottom hem of Franks shirt, in an attempt to take it off him. <br/><br/>Frank is stunned. This can't be happening.<br/><br/>Now that he knows Gerard is that serious, he might as well just give him the shirt. But Gerard crowding him against the wall, trying to take it off him, is something he'd never thought he'd get to experience, and he doesn't want to give it up willingly. He's well known for being stubborn, bratty even, so he knows he can hold out a bit longer before it becomes a problem.</p><p>"Fine, Gee, if you're going to be so aggressive about it" Frank says, stopping his defensive maneuvers and allowing Gerard to lift his shirt off him. "If you wanted to get me topless that bad, you should have said something, and maybe bought me dinner first," Frank says. <br/><br/>"Seriously, though, Gee. Am I just going to sit here shirtless the rest of the day? Did you even think this through?" Frank asks. <br/><br/>"I didn't have much time to think it through, I only saw the stain a couple minutes ago. But I had to do something. But no, you don't have to stay shirtless. You can wear one of my shirts. I'll even let you wear my favorite shirt since I took your favorite one." Gerard says, sounding like that makes perfect sense, and ripping your friend out of his shirt to fix a stain is completely rational behavior. <br/><br/>"Fine", Frank huffs, in an exaggerated put-upon tone. Really he thinks it's pretty sweet that Gerard would let Frank wear his favorite shirt. No one borrows Gerard's Smashing Pumpkins t-shirt. <em>No one</em>.<br/><br/>The shirt Gerard hands him isn't Smashing Pumpkins, though. Frank is about to call him out for being a liar when he realizes which shirt it is. Planet of the Apes. The shirt Frank bought him last year. Frank is shocked. Does he really mean that is his favorite shirt, or is he just trying to get out of letting Frank wear his Smashing Pumpkins shirt? So Frank decides to bring it up, less accusingly than his first reaction was, though. <br/><br/>"This isn't the Zero shirt," Frank says "You said I could wear your favorite".<br/><br/>"You're right, it's not. And you can wear my favorite. That's why I handed it to you." Gerard answers as if it is completely obvious and Frank is just being thick. <br/><br/>"This is your favorite shirt? Since when? Why?" Frank asks, like he needs to instantly understand every thought Gerard has ever had about this shirt. <br/><br/>"Since about a year ago, I guess," Gerard says, trying his hardest for a casual tone, but his voice shakes ever so slightly, from nerves. He hoped Frank wouldn't notice. He doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. He should have just given him the Zero shirt, he now thinks. He needs his defense mechanism again. <br/><br/>"Y'know, Frankie, for someone who whined so much about being shirtless, you sure are doing a whole lot of asking too many questions and not nearly enough of putting the shirt on," Gerard complains in mock annoyance. Though he is kind of annoyed at himself for pushing Frank to wear a shirt. What was wrong with him. Frank could stay shirtless as long as he wants. In fact, he should always be shirtless in Gerard's opinion. </p><p>"I'm putting it on, asshole", Frank answers, while he moved to pull the shirt over his head. It fucking smells like Gerard. Frank is going to lose it. "Can't a guy just ask a question without being mocked?" He fake pouts, "some people find curiosity endearing." </p><p>Joking or not, Gerard hated seeing Frank pout. It turned him into putty in Frank's hands every time. "Don't pout, Frankie, you big baby. If you seriously have a question, I'll answer it." Even as he said it, he knew that he might regret the offer. But... <em>putty</em>. It's not like he even had a choice. </p><p>"Seriously?" Frank asked, kind of surprised that Gerard would just offer to answer his questions. Frank knew Gerard really well, better than anyone, besides <em>maybe</em> Mikey, but he's not an open book. He doesn't just tell people things. You have to just figure him out yourself. Frank wasn't about to pass up a free pass at a direct answer. <br/><br/>"Why is this shirt your favorite?" is the question he decides on. Whatever Gerard's answer is, it shouldn't be some huge deal. So why is Frank so nervous to hear his answer? He just waits, his whole body tense, as he's breathing in Gerard's scent from his shirt, heart racing in anticipation. <br/><br/>"Why do you think, dumbass? Because it's from you." Gerard doesn't mean to sound sarcastic, but he's trying so hard not to let his whole heart spill out at Frank's feet, and that's the tone that came out. The tone can't hide the blush in his cheeks, though. <br/><br/>That's exactly the answer Frank was hoping for, and somehow hearing it was better than he even expected. His brain is screaming at him to just grab Gerard's insanely perfect face and kiss the shit out of him. But just because Gerard likes his shirt doesn't mean he feels the same way Frank does. They're best friends, after all. Frank's sure that's all he meant. He can't get too emotional. <br/><br/>"I've given you tons of things. What makes the shirt so special?" Frank asks, just to stop his mind from racing and hopefully deflect from how much he is freaking out. <br/><br/>"Lots of things. The fact that you knew exactly what movie to pick. And that it reminds me how you've never made fun of me for being such a dork for movies like that. In fact, you've always supported and encouraged all my nerdy tendencies. It's the fact that you got it for absolutely no occasion, just because. It made me feel special, that you would think of me, when you could have got something for yourself, or anyone else. So yeah, because it's from you. All the little reasons all lead back to that." Gerard lists. "And same with all the other stuff you've given me, like the keychain that never leaves my keys or the ugly stuffed chicken you gave me 2 Easter's ago, that lives on my nightstand. And the sketchbook you got me. No matter how many I've had since then, it's still my favorite." <br/><br/>Gerard really didn't want to get all heavy like that. Why did Frank have to keep pushing? Now it's going to be weird. 'Maybe Frank's cocky side will just take the ego boost, without analyzing too much', Gerard hoped. </p><p>Gerard was never that lucky, though. Frank heard every word. He <em>felt</em> every word. He felt it so deeply that he could cry. Instead, he laughed. <br/><br/>He quickly realized he probably looked insane, and the way Gerard's expression changed broke Frank's heart. He realized Gerard probably thought he was laughing at his confession. That definitely wasn't it. <br/><br/>He can really explain it, fully, since there probably isn't a rational reason. Part nerves, part relief, part overjoyed, and one, really big, part that realized Frank was an idiot. Which would be a lot funnier, if it wasn't also really sad. <br/><br/>"Gee, hey, no, don't worry. I wasn't laughing at you. I'm just a dumbass, but seriously. There was nothing funny about what you said. It was fucking beautiful. I am honored that you feel that way. I mean it. More than you know."</p><p>Gerard looked a bit skeptical still, but Frank could tell Gerard was starting to believe him. Gerard always believed him. Another thing that should have been obvious to Frank all this time, but it's like he was realizing it for the first time. He really <em>is</em> thick.<br/><br/>"You want to know why I was really laughing? Aside from just unexplainable dumbassery?" Frank asks, hoping Gerard will allow him to explain, still debating if he really wanted to. There will be no going back after he says this. "It was because of your answer, but not at all how you might think. It's because earlier you were going on and on about how that Black Flag shirt was my favorite. Did you ever wonder why it was my favorite? Do you know why?" <br/><br/>Gerard just shook his head, because he didn't know. He was still hesitant about where this was going and worried Frank wouldn't want to be that close to him anymore.</p><p>"I was wearing that shirt the night we met, remember?"<br/><br/>"Of course I remember, Frankie. It's always been your favorite."<br/><br/>"No, that's just it, Gee. Until that night, it wasn't. I love Black Flag, the shirt was rad, but it was just one of many cool band shirts that I owned. Nothing more. And then I wore it to that party. And you showed up. God, you took my breath away the moment I saw you. I knew immediately that you were special and that I wanted to know you. But I was too much of a pussy to do anything about it. I'm never fucking shy, Gee, you know that. That was just another sign that you were something more. So I just watched you. All night."<br/><br/>Shock is already setting in on Gerard's face. This is the last thing he expected to hear. He's surprised Frank even remembers where or when they met, he certainly would never have guessed that Frank noticed him before they met officially. He was Frank, and Gerard was just Mikey's dorky older brother that got dragged along to a party to get him out of the house. Why would Frank notice him? <br/><br/>"I was beating myself up all night for being such a coward, and not going to talk to you. And then, it happened, like it was the most natural thing in the world. I was standing next to Mikey, he was telling me the story of some girl he had hooked up with, I was half-listening while sneaking glances at you, until you walked over. You were coming over for Mikey, I don't know why, but then you just said "Whoa, dude, great shirt! You like Black Flag?" <br/><br/>Gerard nods, slowly, like being too abrupt will chase all this away and he'll be right back pining for Frank, in secret, like he always has. <br/><br/>"I was actually coming to tell Mikey I wanted to leave. I didn't want to be there, and it was getting harder and harder to pretend to have fun when I knew the only one I wanted to be around was way out of my league. I still can't believe I even worked up the nerve to say anything to you. I was so sure you were going to tell me to fuck off."</p><p>"You really thought I was that much of an asshole? That I'd tell you to fuck off for saying 'nice shirt'?" Frank questions. That is the most ridiculous thing he's ever heard. <br/><br/>"Well that's all I could think of," Gerard admits. "I couldn't very well walk up and tell you that you were the prettiest boy I had ever fucking seen. Seriously, it took me all night to work up the courage to say that to you. I was so scared. But I'm so glad I did it. The best risk I've ever taken." </p><p>"What the fuck? Why didn't I know that?" Frank asks, slightly getting away from his original point. "All these years and I never knew you even noticed me before we met," Frank says, awestruck. <br/><br/>"Me neither. You never told me until now, either. And I thought you were telling me why that shirt is your favorite. It's certainly not because of that shitty party." <br/><br/>"Oh, but it is. Mostly." Frank admits. "You complimenting the shirt is what broke the ice so that I could actually talk to you. We talked the whole fucking night, after that. Wait, didn't you say you came over because you wanted to leave?" You stayed for hours."<br/><br/>"Yeah, I wanted to leave, until the most gorgeous guy in the room started talking to me. Then there was nowhere else I ever wanted to be. Four years later, and nothing has changed there."<br/><br/>"Yeah, for me either," Frank says, with a fond sigh. "Okay. finding all this out is kind of blowing my mind, so I keep getting off track. Back to the shirt.- After it got me the chance to talk to you, it was already becoming my favorite. But because you had complimented it, I started wearing it more around you, too. Because I thought it might help you like me or something stupid like that. I don't know."<br/><br/>"I already liked you," Gerard confesses, meekly, looking down like he was admitting a dirty secret and not proclaiming the reciprocation Frank has wanted since they met.<br/><br/>"I didn't know that. All I wanted was for you to like me. To want me around, romantically, of course, but just any way I could have you. Anyway, so I wore that shirt to MyChem's first show, remember? Well maybe you don't, obviously. It's not like you'd remember my clothes from a random day 4 years ago. But I did, and I hoped it would help me impress you. And it probably didn't, but you invited me to the next show too, and to hang out more and we just got closer and closer. And then I was wearing it the night you asked me to join the band, too." <br/><br/>Frank isn't done, he keeps going."Literally, so much of us was tied to that shirt. That's the only reason I cared about it so much. It wasn't the shirt, it was the memories. Memories with you. That's why I meant it when I said I really don't care about the shirt. It already played its part in getting me everything I actually care about. And if you really think about it, the shirt did it again. If it hadn't got stained we probably wouldn't be talking about all this stuff right now. So, stain or no stain, it's still my favorite shirt. Even more so now, in fact."<br/><br/>Gerard is still stunned. He's never even considered that Frank might return his feelings this way. He's always thought Frank was, rightfully, out of his reach. He is so perfect, why would he ever settle for a mess like Gerard? But apparently, he would and he wants to, or wanted to, at some point, at least. Somehow, just knowing that is a huge boost to Gerard's confidence. Not that bullshit candy shell he uses to sugarcoat shit and hide his real feelings with, but his actual self-worth has gone up just from knowing that Frank thinks he is special. <br/><br/>So, after realizing how well it worked out when he took that chance to talk to Frank all those years ago, he summons every bit of confidence he has and decides to take another risk. It might be the biggest one of his life so far, in his mind, at least. And if it pays off, it will be the greatest reward he can imagine. <br/><br/>"So, Frankie, this bleached-up, old Black Flag shirt is really still your favorite?" he asks, holding the shirt up.</p><p>"Of course..." Frank answers, "No question."<br/><br/>"So, should I expect that you'll be wearing it Saturday, on our date?" Gerard asks, making sure his expression shows that this is him asking Frank out. </p><p>Not just on one date. Not just casual or just friends+ or anything that could be anything less than all-consuming, life-changing. Like everything with them always has been. <br/><br/>"Of fucking course, Gee. What else would I wear? I mean, I'd wear this shirt" Frank says, grabbing at Gerard's Planet of the Apes shirt that he's wearing, for emphasis, "but, obviously, you'll be wearing this. Right?" Frank says. <br/><br/>The look in both their eyes is so full of love that it could melt stone. They've just realized that this is the start of all their dreams coming true. <em>Their</em> dreams. Together. They're together. It still doesn't feel real. Not until, finally, their lips meet in a soft, passionate kiss. It's more real than anything else they've ever felt. And this is only the beginning. The beginning of forever. <br/><br/>To think, after 4 years, they finally got here, all thanks to t-shirts and hair dye. That, and Frank's hairstyling skills. This really was the best idea he's ever had.  </p><p><br/>They both mentally say a little thank you, as they lean in to meet each other's lips again.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I am still fairly new at writing (this is only my 3rd work) and really want to improve. I would greatly appreciate any suggestions or constructive criticism. Thank you for reading. It means so much to me.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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